Incredibly Suspect Stains
by Yeto
Summary: Mick decides Beth's desk needs to be broken in. Gina agrees.


Written due to a severe lack of rated-M Mick/Gina, the fact that this HAD to happen, it was so coming if there was a season 2, come on man after The Time Is Now this was obvious. Also Suspect Covers' next chapter is half-written, it will be posted later today, after I sleep. This has relatively no plot except the self-evident introduction of Beth's desk to the world of horny profilers.

**Disclaimer**: loooooooooooooool CBS

I'd just like to say I saw the finale's ending coming the second I read the episode description. How tragic. I laughed myself to sleep it was SO OBVIOUS this would happen. Let's keep on writing, team, even if CBS is filled with haters, monkeys and people who apparently can't make a good decision to save their lives (or shows). Anyway, enjoy the fic!

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><p>"You know," moan, "Beth is going to," groan, "kill us if she finds," his name, "out about this," a loud moan.<p>

"Hope she does. Now," grunt, "shut up about her," satisfied moan, "would you, love?"

Gina nodded her head sharply before dropping it forward, hanging between their bodies.

Mick smirked against her hair, briefly lifting his eyes to look through the narrow slants in the curtains. He couldn't see anyone else from the team arriving and the men working out in the gym were entirely oblivious to the current activity occurring in the red cell team's headquarters.

On Beth Griffith's desk.

Which, it must be said, was not the desk of either of the two occupants of the room, both of whom were equal participants in the act being performed on the previously mentioned desk.

The only other living entity was the plant, slightly wilted now but still green, sitting pretty on the floor. Its leaves drooped slightly, seemingly discontent with being placed on the ground, but it was a necessary sacrifice. Mick, ever the keen observer, had gotten the notion in his head the plant was a liability and could easily be knocked off the desk and spew dirt all across the floor.

Not only would it be too much effort to clean up, but it would entirely guarantee the question: what were you two doing near enough and physical enough to disembowel an innocent bystander? It wasn't like they could just put a shattered pot back together and refill it with dirt and pretend the plant, which would obviously look a bit worse for the wear, had suffered no ill fate.

As such, the plant vacated Beth's desk to make room for the two profilers, who had rather quickly vacated their clothing upon entering the room. The truly daring facet of their little ritual was that the door to the office was unlocked. Anyone could indeed walk in on them, at any moment.

All part of the fun.

It had begun when the trio of agents went shopping for the whitewashed desk. Prophet was in negotiations with the delivery service to have the desk shipped to their office while they were in California, and because they generally never had anything better to do than talk to each other while someone else did the important talking, Mick and Gina had hung back from the counter, glancing about the hardware store before the Brit had finally leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"You know, love, someone's going to have to break that desk in. Back in Interpol, every new piece of furniture had _some_ couple teach it about the birds and the bees," he'd carelessly tossed out, watching her reaction closely. She'd shifted her left leg forward and closer to her right. His suggestion was apparently appealing to her.

The blonde had said nothing, but her look wasn't dismissive in the slightest. Fortunately, Prophet chose that moment to rejoin them, with word the desk would be awaiting Beth when they flew back in.

The case had concluded, rather successfully and harmlessly, and Beth and her desk were given to each other in a touching ceremony of team spirit and mockery. The brunette had stayed at it for hours, working on files, gently running her hands over the smooth, white paint.

Mick was doing much the same thing, his hands occasionally straying across the surface, and he was certainly doing work, but not on files.

The previous night, Beth had vacated the premises early as always. Prophet apparently had some date or other and excused himself only five minutes later. Cooper was going to be late for a church function with his old friends and left ten minutes after Prophet, leaving the dutiful task of closing up shop to the remaining two agents.

"What are you thinking about doing tomorrow morning? Say, an hour before anyone else will get here?" Mick had suavely asked, walking up behind Gina and stopping dangerously close to her. He smiled as she shuddered ever so slightly due to his proximity and question.

"I don't have anything scheduled as of _now_. I suppose, if you had something in mind, it could be arranged," she commented, attempting to keep her voice distant as she stared straight in front of her, avoiding him.

"Like I said, Beth's desk has a date with destiny. Destiny being you and me," he simpered, moving closer still to her until they were almost touching.

"An hour early?" she nonchalantly asked, stepping forward and away, only to sensually bend over to pick up her bag, almost tangibly feeling the Brit's eagle eyes on her rear.

"An hour. See you then, dahling," he crooned, winking with a smug smile on his face as he walked past her to lock the door.

The next morning, an hour earlier than either normally would have arrived, indeed found the two profilers nervously standing outside the office, shooting rather blatant glances at the other's crotch. Mick confirmed the coast was clear and let them in, tossing his bag onto the table used for discussing cases before progressing to his true target.

His hands settled around her waist, pulling her into him. She played the part of an uncertain first-time lover well, coyly averting her eyes and wiggling back a bit to distance them, all the while an innocent smile resided on her face.

The way she ground her hips forward into his when he kissed her was anything but innocent, and soon she had maneuvered them to Beth's desk. The plant was quickly removed and the building's vacancy was confirmed.

Gina's shirt was the first thing to go. Mick's soon followed, and both were dumped onto the floor in a growing pile of discarded clothing. The thought that it was impossible to distinguish whose clothes were whose due to their identical coloration briefly ran through Gina's mind, however Mick's tongue making contact with her nipple vanquished the thought.

He had been trying for a while now to convince her to sleep with him, even going so far as to invite her to a water park and pretend to be afraid of water slides, a phobia only curable by sex with a hot woman, or copious amounts of clinging to her.

Her personal favorite seduction attempt was his faked contraction of a serious, CDC-regulated toxin that required him to have sex for hours on end. Of course, had he actually been infected, he'd never have been allowed to leave the building and show up at the same movie theater she was at, with another man, who of course had stormed off when the Brit delivered his well-practiced lines regarding fatal attraction.

Mick _had_ promised to make it up to her by showing her, as quoted, 'such a bloody good time you'll wish I was permanently glued inside you.'

She supposed this was as good a time as any.

The Brit was making a series of pleasured, mumbled groans as Gina's hips continued to rub against his, seemingly encouraged on by his attention to her breasts. Her circular motion changed to more of a humping motion as his tongue trailed the chain of her necklace. He'd always assumed she had some sort of fetish for that particular area of skin and her lusty reaction to his mouth confirmed his suspicions.

He felt her legs wrap around his waist while her hands went to remove his jeans, the only remaining article of clothing between her and a very good time. Mick was quite relieved she'd finally bothered to finish stripping him, as his erection was getting rather annoyed with its confinement. There were _much_ better places for it to be.

Gina voiced her agreement, demanding he kindly stop taking so long to get inside her. Someone was going to show up sooner or later and put an end to things, so they might as well make the best of it.

She just hoped Beth's desk would take the stress.

She moaned as she felt his hands move between her legs, spreading them. He lightly skimmed his fingers over her clit, smirk growing wider each time she jolted when a different finger made contact. Her slight jerks continued after he'd stopped, seemingly out of instinct, to encourage him on. Mick waited for her to look up, confused as to why he was just lying there, and when she made eye contact thrust in.

The blonde emitted what he could classify only as the sexiest noise he'd ever heard. Encouraged on, he continued moving, slowly picking up the pace as she trembled beneath him.

"Oh my God, Mick, this is so," moan, "good. Harder baby," an erotic cry, "harder."

Never one to leave a beautiful blonde disappointed, he rammed into her core harder, speeding up his movements as his hands continued to stroke her breasts.

"Gina you," grunt, "are so," strangled cry of pleasure, "tight. It's so hot," groan.

She could barely express herself, lost for words as his dick continued to slam into her. One of his hands had dropped between them and was teasing her clit once again.

"More, Mick," a scream, "rougher. Make me cum for," moan, "you."

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><p>Outside, a very disgruntled Prophet was slumped against the door, head in his hands, headphones in his ears, and still hearing his coworkers screw each other's brains out.<p>

He'd come in early, hoping to catch up on some paperwork, only to hear, then see, Mick very happily banging Gina, who was quite obviously equally content with the situation.

And on Beth's desk.

He didn't get paid enough for this.

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><p>"Mick, oh, just a little harder, I'm," a gasp, "so close. So, oh, higher, uh, come on," a cry.<p>

"God, Gina," he spluttered out before forgetting what he'd intended to say as she screamed and tightened around him.

The Brit promptly followed her over the edge, spilling himself into her, which she seemed to rather enjoy.

Neither heard Prophet's heavy metal blasting from his headphones as they began moving again, a bit slower. It seemed to have gone quite well the first time, and Mick wanted to have a little more fun. He imagined if she was willing to screw him on Beth's desk she'd be game for a bit of dirty talk.

"Remember those underwear pictures we exchanged? I touch myself to yours, daily," he began casually, as if it was no big deal they'd agreed to swap almost-nudes and he jacked off to hers. It'd amazed him she had said yes, and actually sent a picture of herself, but he figured it had something to do with her father always insinuating she was the 'pretty', and therefore slutty, one. Part of her had wanted to annoy him by taking the photo and the other was just doing what she felt was expected of her. Not to say she ever would have given such images to anyone but him.

"Of course you do. You've wanted to sleep with me since we met," she retorted, dragging her nails down his back, causing him to shudder in pleasure.

"Who wouldn't? Hot blonde, not an idiot, nice name, easy to remember. Great choice of lingerie," he smirked, and she giggled a slight bit.

"You'd better hurry up. Cooper usually comes in," moan, "ten minutes."

"Of course, love. Wouldn't want to leave you unsatisfied. Especially if I'd like a repeat performance. Say one where you're on your knees frantically sucking me off like your life depended on it. Then I repay the favor, generously eating you out until your mind goes blank."

"Call me and we'll arrange it."

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><p>Neither could figure out why Prophet had been shooting them dirty looks all day. He refused to look at them except to provide a classic example of the death glare. It wasn't like he'd been waiting around early, listening to them get it on.<p>

Cooper occasionally raised his eyes in interest and suspicion at the scene before him, but if he had any strong notion they'd defaced Beth's desk, he didn't reveal it.

In fact, aside from the venom in Prophet's glances, things were relatively unchanged. Beth seemed totally oblivious to what had happened before she'd arrived, writing on her desk like she'd owned it for years.

It wasn't until the last gleams of sunlight, filtering in through the gym, reflected in a certain manner on her desk, that she finally noticed a rather odd sequence of handprints, sweat trails, and other assorted stains dotting her desk.

The lethal expression on her face put Prophet to shame. It was aimed exclusively at the two youngest agents.

"_What_ did you do on my desk?" she hissed dangerously. Prophet narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, and suddenly Beth was quite sure she didn't really want to know.

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><p>Review if you liked! As always, thanks for reading.<p> 


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